Poems du Terre FIVE! You Know You Want It

1

Cool  rain shears night skies

Air is lace as thunder  moans

The wind connects us

2

Tell me to laugh.

Tell me to smile.

Make no waves

To be worthwhile.

Don’t think of it

Don’t take the time

Tomorrow

Will fit the rhyme

So confident

Devil may care

Just party

Be debonair

3

In 1993, I decided that it was not good

To mix me with men, and so I stopped.

For seventeen years, until a beautiful

pair of hands broke the ice around me.

That was but a brief moment leading

To seeing men as good, but no romance.

So have I decided to mix with men or

Is it too late that only fools would try?

Or is it enough to decide not to avoid

My hairy brothers and let life happen?

Just don’t ask me to shave my legs.

I Could Only Rescue One of Us

There are many ways

To self-mutilate

There are many ways

To self-destruct

I wanted to rescue him

He wanted to rescue her

Everyone was drowning.

I could only rescue

One of us

And that was me

Even as I watched them

Drag each other down

I had to keep swimming

For the shore.

Turning back

I only saw

Empty water

And heard the

Crying of gulls

Let me pretend

That they will live

Happily

Ever

After

Magically transformed

Into Poseiden

And a Mermaid

Happily

Ever after

In their shell.

Even though

My instincts

Know

It could only be

Painfully

Ever

After

Trapped in Hell

Here’s The Thing About Getting Older

Consider the alternative.

I moan to think it went too fast.

But then I think of all the events

And all the lovers and I smile.

People play the “If I were Rich” game.

Where you can buy youth in a bottle

And many, many youths for your bed.

Which will lead to bitterness for the poor.

Maybe it’s a female thing.

To find white hair and wrinkles

Beautiful.

Maybe our once racing hormones

Aren’t demanding to be served

Anymore.

Is it cruel to be honest and say that

You had all the chances in the world

And blew it?

All I know is that I have decided to be retired

And get out of the rat race of success and love

All I know is maybe it’s better to be alone

And loved by friends instead of depressed.

Yes, I have a regular income and investments

Yes, I have no children begging for cash.

But yes, I’m now free to work for the good of others

But yes, I’m now free to read and write and think

Of course, it’s not perfect.

Of course, I’m getting weaker.

But I have to remind you one more time:

Consider the alternative.

I Have Joined a Haiku Writing Page. We Begin

Nature will one day

Have enough of our torture

And send us away.

In a Subaru

Without air conditioning

I cannot go far.

Why did I allow

Time to run away from me?

It never returns.

Finally the Truth

Refuses to be denied.

You cannot be saved.

I am not your type.

Those who were abandoned you.

Just a reminder.

Lautrec and Van Gogh

Were laughed at by the ladies

But had the last laugh.

Please don’t ask my help.

You are the ones who raised him.

You broke it. Fix it.

The Collected Tweets of Reinhard, Number Two

It’s not the heat, it’s the humility.

Fairy Tales can’t come true, they can’t happen to you. No matter how old or young your heart is. Reality will have to do.

Your fantasies are as inspirational to you as mine are to me.

We need to write of life & death. We need to write of hunger. We need to write of wrong & right. In hopes to save the younger

He was a tall white stork; She was a porcupine; It could never work.

Out of time, out of money.  Still able to smile. Quiet costs no money. Savor it.  Give love to many, not just one.  Laugh through the tears.

You say I’m not your type. Where are the ones who were? They hurt you. Used you. Abandoned you. I guess I love you too much to be your type.

Feelings that are not returned start to rot. Time to clean the fridge and buy fresh apples.

Trust isn’t promises spoken. Trust is real and not a token. Trust cares if the heart is broken; Trust waits long to be awoken.

I’m Still Alive, I Just Don't Know What to Say

Like many people on Disability, I’m waiting for the idiocy to end. Even my parents, dedicated to Republican stupidity have realized that something is wrong. They don’t consider Social Security and Medicare to be Socialism because they use them and they hate Socialism. They’re starting to realize the truth.

The right wing of the Republican party are racist animals, dedicated to destroying anything that serves the poor and clever enough to convince poor white people that THEY are not actually the poor.  It is no surprise that they attack education. They need stupid voters to keep them in power where they can get the money of rich men.

But I’ve said that over and over. And the 2012 election is too far away. All I can do is wait. The petitions we sign on Facebook are never read or taken seriously.  The fact that 80 percent of the poll respondents hate what the Republicans are doing we are paralyzed by fear. That’s what having only one job that you have to keep does. My mother is worried, but more worried about “Al Qaeda armies training in Mexico.”

Prepare for anything, Kids. We’re in a bad place and it is international.

See You in the Funny Papers

You should pay attention to the Quarterly Statements put out by your company. I didn’t think about the first quarter of 2009 until 1 p.m. on April 15^th, after twenty-three years of holding the proverbial “Temporary Normal Job Until I Make it Big as a Playwright” position.

I might point out that it was twenty-three years of coming in early and staying late and forgetting my lunch hour. But The Bottom line can’t get sentimental. The Bottom Line has a business to run into the ground. The Bottom Line doesn’t care that you’ve been reliable for all those years. The Bottom Line doesn’t care about the snowy, icy mornings you didn’t call in sick, but came in with MS, moving on a cane, and you were the only one to make it into work and from seventeen miles away.

No. The Bottom Line dares not see or feel any of that. “Surely” it says, “they can find someone to do it for half the salary.” And when income drops, nothing else matters, certainly not quality. Say it over and over “It’s better because it’s cheaper. It’s better because it’s cheaper.”

And as an old employee of Executive Search, I knew that Aetna told them that I cost them too much and Aetna would give the Bottom Line more savings if they let The Gimp go.

At 1 p.m. on April 15th, I felt a cold chill on my neck and looked up to see five managers standing in a circle around my cubicle, and they didn’t look happy. I was the Work Horse, told a million times I was not Management material, but I didn’t mind. I could do a dozen tasks an hour perfectly. In the last week, my jobs had started to disappear, but I thought they would be replaced by new tasks and new programs. After all, I had guided the company through three major network setups since 1985.

The flying wedge of management told me to stop working and come into Debbie’s office immediately and forget about the work on my screen. And let me tell you, it was crowded and I had to pee. I don’t remember exactly what they said, except they spoke of The Bottom Line and layoffs and since I had told them over and over, that I was starting to think of Retirement, they felt comfortable handing me packets of legal papers. Then, I was led me to a small conference room full of the other 6 victims.

They described what we should sign and what we should return and what would be coming in the mail.

They told us that we didn’t have to do any more work. I could just pack up and go home. I asked if I was being paid for a full shift. They said “yes.” So, I said, “Then I am going to finish my work.” All the other laid offs had left. The managers were stunned, wondering if I was planning sabotage, but no. I had to finish my work and make sure everything was in order. Older workers have this useless, annoying habit of wanting to finish the job.

Finally, 4 p.m. came and I had put all my things, such as they were, in  box. In that box was a one hundred year old putty knife that I gotten from my grandfather, a carpenter, to remind myself that I was a craftsperson. I was a typesetter, not a desktop publisher. I knew fonts and kerning and leading and…never mind. It doesn’t matter any more. That all comes with the computer nowadays and that makes The Bottom Line smile.